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Musings from the Laundromat: The Color of Blue edition.

Today the outdoors smells like a forgotten load of  damp clothes in a dryer.

Musty.

Dank.

Airless.

The ground smells so different that Butters has refused for two days to venture across it to her normal ‘potty’ spot. Adamantly halting on her leash and not crossing some invisible scent line.

The laundromat floor is peppered with termite wings – a common occurrence out here in the desert after we’ve been slammed with a storm.

Yesterday our power went out and we technology addicts sat, sometimes paced, until we found something to entertain ourselves with.

Me?  I finally picked up a book my friend Betty loaned me long ago, back when I was reading at least a book per week.

‘The Color of Water’ by James McBride.

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I made it half way through by the time the electricity returned, after my initial relief at the ‘WHOOSH’ of the A/C – I settled back to the book.

I’m feeling, ‘off’.

My color today and most of yesterday is blue.

No one reason in particular.

I think a combination of the stifling breezeless humidity, the fact that I still don’t have my car, and an aching mouth could be major players in this mood of mine.

I’m just out of sorts.

It was humbling to have my boss bring me home Friday after work.

I have such a stubborn streak, and hate to be dependent on anyone for basic things like food, transportation or money.

My son and fiance went grocery shopping Friday, and for some reason, I don’t feel comfortable eating the food.  Which is ridiculous.  We support each other.

I feel like a stranger right now, even to myself.

I drove to the laundromat in my son’s car, nothing feels the same. Off kilter.

I was glad to get lost in that book yesterday, because it took me out of myself and my own bad atmosphere.

I’ve just been so tired lately.  Tired and worried about this and that. This funk – I must shake.  And I will.

Almost smiled when I discovered half of my Friday lunch in my purse this morning – cucumber and cheese sandwich.  Tucked into its little sandwich bag. I’ll have to remember to toss that.

Poor thing.  All  prepared and didn’t end up getting to serving its purpose.

Yes, I still feel for inanimate objects.  Even when I’m blue.

 

for musings

 

 

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Monsoon broken down

I get up.  Make the chicken – and the scent of it draws Nic out of his lair, I’m not going to lie – this was after he said,” Taco Bell is closed.”

Me: I love the smell of rain.

Him: I think the smell of rain is caused by the drowning of bacteria.

Me: *sigh* pause.

Me: Also love the smell of fresh cut grass.

Him: The plants are sending out distress signals.

______________________

 

My son is a killjoy.

I mean, considering he came out of his cave at the scent of flesh … he burst my bubble on the whole rain thing.

It’s pouring now.

Much bacteria being drowned.

Oh but it smells SO good.  Secrete!  Secrete!

We are in for one hell of a monsoon this weekend.